The broken Doll
by Heartgrater
Summary: 'He sees her cascaded on the bed like a broken doll' Set after Reinbach, Molly dies at the hands of Jim Moriarty, will the memories of her be enough to help him take Moriarty down?
1. The broken doll

Jeez louise tragedy!

Anyway, dunno if your reading this the 'improbableone' but if you dont like my stories leave 'em be and take your opinion elsewhere.

And on that happy note on with the story.

DISCLAIMER: I will never own sherlock, it belongs to steven moffat and mark gatiss

Enjoy!

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><p>I have a case.<p>

_Finally!_

People have presumed I'm too weak to do them since the whole Moriaty affair, but they underestimate things.

I'm sat in the back of a taxi, John by my side.

"So then the machine st-"

To be honest at the moment I don't care about his incident in the supermarket.

As soon as the taxi draws to a stop I throw the far at the driver and giddily shoot out of the taxi.

"Who do we have Lestrade?" I ask him.

I don't expect him to have a grave face.

"What?" I ask.

I examine him for any clue of what's wrong.

_Body language, slumped he's holding something from me, judging by his dialogue its someone we both know._

"Bodies?" I ask getting concerned at Lestrade's reluctance.

"One." He replies grimly.

I still can't determine who but I trudge inside the house.

I'm immediately hit by the over powering smell of lavender.

"It's a woman then." I reply to Lestrade's statement.

I walk straight into the main room and examine the pictures on the wall.

Straight away the girl in the middle of the mantelpiece catches my eye.

"Lestrade. Why is Molly Hooper in this picture?" I ask looking at the other pictures on the wall.

"It was her house." He replies.

I realise.

"Was?"

Without a second thought I run upstairs ignoring the stains of blood on the wall.

I open the bedroom door and see the corpse.

Molly Hooper is laid on the bed like a broken doll.

Her head is hung loosely over the end and her arms are spread out equally.

"No." I say.

"Sherlock... she's-"John looks at me like I'm an infant.

"I said no."

All the feelings of happiness are replaced by disbelief.

"Who John. Who."

He turns to me anxiously.

I stalk past him to the corpse of Molly Hooper and brush back the brown hair from her face.

The sight of her face, her eyes staring at me blankly make me retreat.

On her back the words _I've burnt one heart _are carved into it_._

"He... is going to die. He is going to hell." I say and take one last look at the broken Molly Hooper before leaving the building.

I don't turn back.

I hear the increased pace behind me and immediately know its John.

"Sherl-"

"I'm going to find him. When I do, I will kill him." I say through my gritted teeth.

Before he can input I increase my pace and go round the corner.

I don't reflect on things nor do I feel.

Yet I'm sat around a corner thinking about Molly Hooper and feeling... _angry._

I don't know what to do.

I realise a new feeling and recognise it as that of guilt.

I'd always thought Molly Hooper of that as an acquaintance, but I understand that she was a friend.

When I really need some time _alone _John runs up to me.

"It's for you."

I look down at the note in his hand and take it before he backs off.

I open it up and am disappointed in myself when I realise I'm shaking.

I smooth it out and sit down on the bench next to me.

_Dear Sherlock._

_This is like, a death note. Moriarty let me write it, well his accomplice anyway. I know I'm going to die now, since I have a baseball bat about to be brought down on my head. But, I just want to say, obviously I'm dead, otherwise you wouldn't be reading this anyway, don't feel guilty and everything yeah? I know what you can be like. So I guess this is just a quick note to say that you've been a good friend to me and as cheesy as this sounds thank you. You did everything you could._

_Love Molly x_

I re-read it once again.

The adrenaline in my veins gives me one thing to say.

_Kill Moriarty._

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><p>My first go at tragedy? what do you think? Review please :)<p> 


	2. Molly Hooper is dead

Righto! chapter two!

Is it strange to be so happy when writing an tradegy fic? oh well :)

A big thankyou to T.N weston.

Oh and thefilmfreak123 ( you know how much I love you XD )

DISCLAIMER: blah blah blah, youve seen chapter 1's disclaimer

enjoy!

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><p>I don't know where I'm going.<p>

My feet are moving in the direction of a cab as I walk into it.

I stare blankly at the window until the cab comes to a stop and I throw my faire absent mindedly at the driver.

Unfortunately at the time I don't want company John had followed me.

"Sherlock are you okay?" He asks.

I dismiss the concern; I'm not an infant I know how to behave.

"Concern doesn't save anyone John, so don't use it on me."

I'm aware of whom _someone_ is and I'm sure John is too.

I can't help but feel a little bit guilty for my friend.

I walk in the baker st door and walk up the stairs not acknowledging Mrs. Hudson's questions.

I can hear John talking to her.

I've never really been one for sleeping but now I need it.

I walk into my room and collapse against the pillow.

_It's a normal day this morning._

_I walk into the morgue and am greeted by Molly._

"_You're dead?"I ask._

_She shakes her head and laughs._

"_No no yet! You're cursing me! Anything you want today?"_

_I nod._

"_Okay that's fine. I was wondering... if you want to have coffee."_

_The sound that comes out of my mouth is strange._

"_Yes. Meet me at 2, ill text you the details."_

_She smiles at me._

_It feels strange I haven't seen that smile in a while._

_Such... small, but perfect lips._

_As I lean over to compliment her I-_

My head bolts up from the pillow.

I don't usually dream about _people._

So why am I dreaming about Molly?

...

"Because she's dead."

The words taste sour on my tongue as I spit them out, feeling the harsh reality of them.

With a decisive nod and not really knowing what I'm doing I roll out of bed.

The sun bleeds through the curtains as I decide what I'm going to do.

I get out my blackberry from my side drawer flicking through all the contacts absent mindedly.

I purposely put them in order of favourites.

John.

Mrs. Hudson

Lestrade.

The woman.

Molly.

I look at the last name and freeze.

I don't really know what to do with it.

How did I get her number anyway?

I know that this won't do anything.

But I quickly tap the phone dial so it starts ringing.

Its goes straight to answer phone.

"Hey this is Molly! Err. I'm not here, obviously, otherwise you wouldn't get this, but yeah, leave your name and I'll try to get back to you!"

I sigh even though I knew this would happen and scroll down to find my drug dealer's name.

_Danny._

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><p><em>OH NO! sherlock is taking drugs again!<em>

Review please and read love stories and tournaments of lies by Nocturnias!

You'll be feeling empty if you dont :)


	3. The DNA says otherwise

why hello readers!

Im soooo sorry, for the hideous waiting period. (im in the mood for adjectives.)

So shall we roll on?

Thankyou T.N Weston, I really apreaciate your reviews.

So. fic recs?

Nocturnias- Love stories and tournaments of lies.

T.N Weston- Away from the sun

somethinginthewayful- The domestic anylasis.

These are mostly fluff to contrast this story :D

i cant be bothered doing a disclaimer...

Enjoy!

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><p>"<em>Hello Stranger!" <em>Danny yells to me from the other side of the phone.

He's high, obviously.

"_Meet me outside baker st yeah?"_

I nod, then realise he can't see me.

"Yes."

He puts the phone down as I grab a handful of money of the side.

I'll just tell John I'm going out for a case.

With a pained sigh, which has become more frequent since a day ago, I walk out of my room; I can't be bothered with anything.

John looks up from his laptop about to interfere.

"Don't John."

He looks frustrated.

"We have received evidence she may not be dead."

I immediately turn around.

"I beg your pardon?"

John looks up at me.

"The results from her DNA, don't match with the corpse."

"How do you know this?" I ask.

I'd seen her dead, her face smashed to smithereens, but I knew it was her.

He looks at me; he seems to be telling the truth.

"Come with me." He replies.

So much for the drugs.

With an extended sigh I quickly reach for my phone before following John out of the door.

_Something's come up._

_SH_

I'm sure John was wrong, but I have to go anyway, just to not let him down.

I scroll once again over the phonebook in my phone and mentally praise myself for not deleting _her _number.

I reach Danny and send it, jumping in the cab next to John.

The prominent silence drafts through the cab.

I don't reminisce yet I find myself thinking about _that _Christmas party.

"_Obviously contemplating for the size of her mouth and breasts."_

The _look _on her face when I said that sentence.

She looked betrayed.

With a surge of guilt I try to push back down, I get out of the cab.

It's raining as usual.

I walk into and have given up following John, who's moving at a snail's pace.

"Hurry up John." I urge.

I bound up the steps two at a time.

I presume they're in the morgue.

I walk in and am immediately surrounded by possessions of Molly.

"Lestrade. What are you doing?" I ask, even though I know full well.

"DNA tests."

I nod.

Maybe I was wrong?

I'm never wrong.

I flip out my phone.

I scroll down the phone list and land on her name.

_Where are you?_

_SH_

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><p><em>BOM BOM BOM! <em>Is molly alive? Or is it a false lead? I'll try to update soon, if my busy life lets me.

Reviews are always welcome, you know that :)


	4. She's alive

Hello readers! well this is were we see whether Molly is in fact alive. Dont want to dissapoint, but its not a good- oh just read it!

DISCLAIMER: Dont own sherlock, otherwise i would be living in a mansion ( damn you moftiss!) it all belongs to steven moffat and mark gatiss.

Fic Recs:

Sherlock and Molly that night

Away from the sun

Love stories and tournaments of lies.

Yes im repeating myself, but this is in case you blindly ignored my last ones :D

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>I'm taking in all the information, storing it, waiting for the inevitable.<p>

"John, she wrote me a note..."

I trail away at the look on his face.

_Weary eyes, hasn't slept in days, probably because of the case I, I mean we, finished yesterday.  
>His trainers are scuffed, threw them on in a hurry, seems to have lost about 2 pounds, he's on a diet.<br>hands; ringing them together nervously, he's not very sure how to behave, he didn't know Molly well enough to be too upset. He's used the hot blade razor in a hurry, as there's a bit of unseen blood underneath his chin._

"We did tests and found the pen, but they didn't have her fingerprints on them." He cleared his throat and looked around the room, he looked anywhere but up at me.

"Are her fingerprints on the database?" I ask.

John shakes his head.

"Not on the criminal database, no. But every employee at St. Barts gets there fingerprints done so they can set up an account to buy food and stuff like that."

I nod knowing the ridiculous process Molly went through when she tried to buy some food.

"So she didn't write it." I nod to myself and walk round the room.

A smile creeps up my face for a flash of a second.

"John, Molly's alive."

He turns to me puzzled.

"Well, they're building up a case, but don't get your hopes up Sherlock."

Something along the lines of moment ruiner passes through my mind.

"I'm not a child John." I say in a matter of fact way.

Here comes Mr. Guilt in my mind again.

Reminds me of how much I hate feelings.

"Well as I said were starting up a case. "

Lestrade walks over phone in hand.

"I saw her dead Lestrade."

He nods.

"Her face was beaten beyond recognition. You couldn't have."

I'm never wrong.

But there's always a first time for everything isn't there?

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I freeze.

It could be from anyone, Lestrade, no wait he's in the room.

John; the same position.

It could be Danny.

It could be Irene, but I find that unlikely.

I pull it out.

Slowly but surely typing in the code which allows me into my phone.

It buzzes again.

The first is from Danny.

_No problemo mate! Anuva time?_

With another sigh at his failure to use the English language I look at the other message.

Molly.

_Help me._

_MH_

I don't fail to comply as I'm already out of the door.

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><p>YAY she's alive! but where is she? Just for a warning expect some Jimmy-boy in later chapters!<p>

R&R please :D


	5. The pool

Well hello der, I have no fic recs today just shoutouts, however this chapter is very... read it.

DISCLAIMER: Dont own sherlock I only own the laptop im typing on.

SHOUTOUTS:

Nocturnias- Thankyou, really it's lovely to get reviews from you :)

T.N weston: For staying with my tragic starts!

FallonHolmes: For putting me on fav authors, YAYAYAY!

And..

Bubblesdia: for making me realise I _had _to bring back Molly.

Enjoy!

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><p>I now realise that I have no idea where she could be and where she actually is.<p>

I retype out my previous message.

_Where are you?_

_SH_

I run down the steps as John steps out in front of me.

"Sherlock. There are footprints in-"

I interrupt him.

"Yes, but in what?"

"paint." He clarifies.

A childish smile comes over my features as I run out of the door.

"But- SHERLOCK?" he yells.

I'm already racing down to the police cars as I realise I've gained the company of Lestrade.

"What-are-you-doing?"

He looks at me strangely as we jump in the car.

"Same as you."

I nod.

The speed bumps make my head collide with the roof as we come to a grinding halt.

I hop out of the car and immediately realise.

"Someone else has been here."

On the floor in blue paint are the words;

_C U ON THA OVA SIDE_

I sigh at the man's use of the English language.

Anderson walks in.

"Anderson, your hair actually looks quite decent." I state looking at his ridiculous gelled back hair.

"Really?" He asks his face lighting up with pointless pride.

"No." I reply smugly and go back to the paint on the floor.

He sighs and insecurely checks out his hair in Molly's mirror.

My work has been done.

"Dish." I tell a random worker.

Julie? Or is it Hannah.

Oh.

It's Phil.

I take the dish from her I mean, him, and scrape of the residue.

"I need to take this to the lab for testing."

_He _takes it.

My phone starts buzzing in my pocket.

I hastily pick it up and answer it.

"Hello? Molly?"

"_This isn't Molly. Well it is, but I'm typing and she's reading it out."_

No. Not these again.

"_I'm not going t-to tell you where I am, only that if y-you don't come soon. She'll die..."_

I can hear Molly's choked sobs from the other side of the phone.

"_Gives it a bit of d-drama don't you think? I like it, y-yeah, I'm gonna use this more often."_

"Where _is_ she?" I ask

"_H-ha. H-ha. A-all I'm telling you is... see you on the other side."_

"On the other side of what?"

There's a silence.

"L-lon-!"

She's cut off by another bleep.

"_I might kill you, but then again, I'm so changeable! Remember Sherlock?"_

I put down the phone

"Lestrade she's in London."

He looks at me and nods.

"The floors wet through!" He groans at his wet trousers.

"No scrap that." I mutter.

I bend down to the floor and smell it.

Chlorine.

_Oh he's clever! _

_Moriarty likes attention, the fact that he was making reminisce about the pool and he repeated what he had said. The hit man has been somewhere where the water smells of chlorine, given the fact that we've been there previously that leaves only one place._

"The pool." I say under my breath.

The only thing that let him down was the incompetence of his accomplice.

My hand tightens over the gun in my coat pocket.

"Lestrade. Stay outside the pool where Carl Powers trainers were found, _**do not**_ enter unless I tell you to. Got that?"

He nods, looking slightly sceptical.

I don't have time to tell him the details as I rush out of her flat door.

I pound down the street; I'm not taking a cab today.

_It's either him or me._

Another chilling thought comes through my mind.

_Or Molly._

My feet keep moving to the point where my brain isn't telling them to do it anymore.

They are moving by themselves.

Sure enough after what seems to be a while I come to a stop outside the pool, Lestrade's police force coming to a halt behind me.

I shoot them a 'stay there' glare and enter the building.

I have to make sure I'm as light footed as possible.

I enter the main room where Moriarty is stood.

"De ja vu! Don't you think Sherlock?"

He nods towards the empty space next to me.

"No Johnny boy though today is there?"

I don't answer.

"Molly? The answer to your silent question is well. Voila!"

He bundles out Molly from a door behind him.

"You want a private moment? Okay then." He smirks and leaves the room.

This will be short lived.

It's the first time I've seen her since her 'death'.

Her eyes are glossed over with tears as we stare.

Its cliché, but I don't really know what to do.

She breaks it.

She sprints over, and I just stay where I am.

Suddenly (and believe me I'm trying to cut out the cheese) that area seems so much bigger.

The fact that she has a bomb vest on is slightly alarming.

I'd been through this a week ago, I didn't want it again.

She finally makes it to me as I rip the bomb vest of and throw it across the room.

De ja vu indeed.

She stares at me for a second before throwing her arms around my neck.

I'm not so sure how to behave.

"Hello Molly."

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><p>Well. too ooc? or not, i do think that this is in character, but hey, tell me what you think?<p>

Reviews please :D

PS: Just a brief thing that has nothing to do with this story, I've found out that the life and times of Molly Hooper had 26,469 hits! YAYAYAY!


	6. Moriarty

__This is a bit of a suspense chapter.

BOM BOM BOM!

Shoutouts:

Fallonholmes: Jeez that review made me soooo happy, you dont know how much.

Nocturnias- For just always being there and giving me amazing reviews

thats about it, but enjoy!

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><p><em><strong>Molly's POV:<strong>_

I see him across from me at the pool.

He's never seemed so beautiful; the light falls on his black hair and nearly blinds me.

We just stare, and I realise the fact that Moriarty will return.

As cheesy as one of my old romance novels my feet move on their accord.

I run towards him and he gets closer and closer.

I don't really care about the current situation as he pulls the bomb vest of me and throws it across the room.

We stand unsure of what to do.

I throw my arms around his neck.

"You came." I state simply.

He scoffs.

"Yes."

He still hasn't done anything, and I'm surprised when he awkwardly reopriciates.

"Thank you." I mumble into his coat.

I get no answer.

I cling tighter to him when Moriarty enters.

"Sorry! I'm interrupting the moment?"

I can't believe I thought I loved him.

No not _Moriarty, _Jim or who I thought was Jim.

I immediately jump away from him.

"Feeling okay Molly?" He asks increasing his pace.

I want to spit at him.

I retreat behind Sherlock.

"If bombs don't work time to get out the big guns." He nods towards the ceiling.

I don't get what he's on about until I see 5 red lasers dance across Sherlock's chest.

One flickers over my face, the bright light nearly blinding me.

"Have I burnt your heart yet?" he asks cheerily striding up to Sherlock.

He remains silent.

"I did didn't I? The look on your little face when your thought little Molly here had died."

He raises an eyebrow at Moriarty.

"I'm amazing, that's how I knew." He gives me a sadistic smile and turns back the way he came.

Sherlock still remains silent, but I can see something fade from his eyes.

Is he giving up?

"I was impressed with your game; the only thing that ruined it for you was your accomplice." Sherlock sighs and gets out a gun from his pocket.

Moriarty's face lights up with glee.

"Oh Sherlock, I meant for that to happen. I couldn't wait any longer to see you again." He smirks and puts on puppy dog eyes.

"Did you miss me?" He asks fiddling with the button on his suit.

Sherlock doesn't reply yet again.

"I'd get running Sherlock. The bombs on a timer."

I cast a glance at the timer counting down.

The room with the actual pool in is about 5 rooms away.

"I'm not running Moriarty." Sherlock gives him what I call his 'bad ass' stare.

Another smile forms on his face.

"Well I am! Bye!"

He dashes out of the room and before Sherlock can catch up the door slams in his face.

I could have sworn the words 'see you around' drifted through the air as he left.

"We need to get going!" I yell anxiously tugging at his jacket.

He shakes his head impatiently.

"He's deadlocked the doors to get in and out."

Before I can ask he adds;

"And windows."

I look fearfully at the bomb on a minute.

"What about the snip-"I ask

He cuts in once again.

"They've already vacated."

He runs up to the door and yanks it open.

"We can't get out of the building, but we can try getting away." He mutters to me.

I nod at him and follow him out.

I cast a glance at the timer before I leave.

_Twenty seconds._

I start following him, urging my feet to move faster.

_Nineteen seconds_

He wrenches open another door while I follow.

_Eighteen seconds_

Tears of desperation form in my eyes.

_Seventeen seconds_

We're not going to make it out of here alive.

_Sixteen seconds_

Moriaty has won.

_Fifteen seconds_

I push through another door as Sherlock disappears from my sight.

_Fourteen seconds_

"Sherlock?" I ask turning in all directions.

_Thirteen seconds._

I find him stood in front of me and desperately run faster.

_Twelve seconds_

We pass through another room.

_Eleven seconds_

We run into the pool area.

_Ten_

_Nine_

_Eight_

_Seven_

_Six_

_Five_

_Four_

_Three_

_Two_

_One_

We freeze as I'm catapulted into the air and land in the water of the pool.

The last thing I see is Sherlock Holmes as my vision turns black.

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><p>OH CRAP! anyway, review if you like it :)<p> 


	7. CPR

I'm really sorry baout that, and on a cliffhanger too!

Anyway onwards and upwards am I right?

FIC REC:

Sherlock and Molly that night- Dizzy Bunny

catalyst

Love stories and tournaments of lies

Away from the sun

Oh and a quick thankoyu to bexi, because praise and constuctive critiscism do help. really.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>As soon as I opened my eyes,harsh chlorine flows into them, making me squeeze them shut quickly.<p>

I arise from the water and am amazed that I actually didn't drown.

Then I quickly get hit by realization.

"Sherlock?" I ask swimming round in all directions.

I can't see him.

I aim a look underneath the blue waves and see the tinge of black.

No.

He's not moving.

I duck back under the cold water and use all my strength to grab the lapels of his coat.

I manage to pull him up to the surface.

He's as light as a feather.

I quickly throw him onto the side and leap over myself with some difficulty, the clothes I'm wearing attempt to pull me back into the water.

_I know science, that's what got me a job in a mortuary, but then again those are dead people..._

_Focus!_

I start panicking and quickly see if he's breathing.

He's not.

I look again, I'm hallucinating obviously, just shock, that's all it is.

No he's not breathing.

I get my hands out ready to start chest massages and realise my hands are shaking.

I push down on his chest and repeat this mumbling;

"Come on Sherlock." All the way through.

I'm not giving up.

I carry on pushing and look at his face for any sign of movement, when I find none tears start rising in my eyes.

_I will not let this distract me._

I carry on a little bit of hope dying inside me with each push.

I cease when a sharp breath comes from the consulting detective.

"Are you okay?" I immediately squeak.

He blinks a few times, the water from my hair drips into his eyes and he squeezes them shut upon instinct.

"Has the bomb gone off?" He croaks glancing around the room.

I nod.

He starts wheezing and sits up as I immediately panic.

_Again._

"I'm getting an ambulance." I cry and am about to stand up.

"Lestrade's outside." He croaks.

I nod and get up from the spot we were in.

The wet clothes on my body attempt to slow me down as I run past the door.

I look out of the window and remember I cannot open them.

With a sigh, I carry on running, all thoughts either gone or put aside as I wrench open another door and pass my body through it.

The corridor continuously echoes with the sound of my boots, it rings in my ears and I want nothing more to just go home and fall asleep.

Then my thoughts immediately turn to Sherlock and I carry on running.

My feet are dashing down the stairs now, obeying a silent command.

As the bright lights fall on me I find myself running through the disused reception.

The final automatic doors slide open to reveal Lestrade and his team.

He takes one look at me and immediately asks the obvious question.

"Are you okay?"

I nod but manage to gasp out;

"It's Sherlock."

With a brief nod to the others, they burst into the pool and I am not far behind.

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><p>Enjoy? please review thanks :)<p> 


	8. Sherlockness

Really sorry to dissapoint dear readers, but I dont think I'll update every day from now on, so my nearest update day will be tuesday.

Anyway, onwards and upwards.

Shall we?

SHOUTOUTS:

Fallonholmes: Thankyou for your review, I mean it, thankyou ever so much.

Jumperguy: It was mainly aimed to be a suspense chapter but thanykou for your review!

...

Finally

Nocturnias: You know how much I love you XD, but thankyou, once again for all your lovely comments time and time again. You know how much I apreaciate it :3

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>I dash in after them leading the way as they all follow me.<p>

The polished floor reflects into our eyes and slightly takes us of course.

"Hurry!" I urge the police force, and turn my walk into some kind of a jog.

I jog up the stairs remembering that everything is now working.

"This way." I instruct turning round the twisting corridors.

I start shivering from the pool water as I carry on running up the stairs.

I have unconsciously increased my pace.

We burst into the pool were Sherlock is sat upright.

_He looks even more gorgeous when he's drench-_

_He's nearly just drowned and here you are commenting? _

"Sherlock?" I ask.

He stands up, shakes his head and walks out of the door.

"Sherlock!"

I follow him out of the room.

He looks from me to the door and back again.

"I don't need them." He croaks.

"Yes you do," I reply immediately.

"Sherlock, I had to do C-CPR on y-you, because you weren't breathing a-and now you say your fine?" I ask.

He nods.

I throw my arms around his neck.

"What are you doing Molly?"

"C-conserving your body heat." I reply.

_Smooth move Molly, real smooth._

I carry on holding him and immediately let go at the arrival of Lestrade.

"Were going to have to take you in for ques-"

"I'm going home Lestrade," He says.

Without a second's hesitation he sets of in the other direction and I apologize to Lestrade before following.

"Sherlock?" I ask, before increasing my pace.

The walls suddenly feel a lot smaller.

"I'm going back to baker St," He doesn't turn.

"L-like this never happened?" I ask.

He draws to a halt.

"No."

"W-well what then?" I ask.

He still doesn't turn.

"You get changed, you come to baker st, get John to look at you for any injuries and then..."

He trails away and sets of walking again.

I find myself shivering at the lack of coats and the fact that I am dripping wet through and turning quite a vivid blue.

"Right." I reply, and increase my pace so much that I overtake him.

I walk out of the door and feel warmth on my shoulders.

I examine the item as Sherlock's coat, removed before the explosion.

I hold it against me taking in all the 'Sherlockness' I can get from it and carry on walking.

"thank you Sherlock."

He doesn't reply, but the simplest cough is his kind of 'you welcome'.

"... You too. For. Saving me." He coughs in a rubbish way of trying to cover it up and his face turns back to the mask that is always worn.

I carry on walking until I find myself in the familiar reception area, the light shining in my face in such a way that for just one small moment, everything was beautiful.

I exit the huge building and Sherlock raises his hand for a cab.

I quickly get in it, as does he and the cab start up.

Every time I go over a speed bump my head grazes the roof and in London, believe me, it's frequent.

There's an eerie silence through the cab as we all remain and wait.

The cab draws to a halt as I get out to pay the driver and immediately recognise the face.

_Moriarty_

"Bye Molly moos! Seeeee you later!"

"Sherlock!" I yell.

He seems to react slower so I chase after the cab.

My legs are pounding against the hard gravel as I carry on running.

I can't actually see, because my hair is whipped in front of my face like a shield.

Until;

"Molly? Molly!"

I'm pulled back from the road by a pair of hands wrapped around my waist.

Then it all goes _clear._

I sweep away the wet locks of hair from my face and realised I'm laid on the kerb.

"The cab..." I trail away in confusion.

"Moriarty escaped." Sherlock is sat next to me.

"Then, who?"

"You couldn't see and you nearly ran into a car, hardly responsible Molly."

I blink a few times registering all this.

"But I didn't get run over." I state simply, letting the words roll around in my mouth.

"Obviously." He snorts and stands up, dusting himself off.

It clicks in my brain that he was the one to pull me to safety.

"Thank you. Again."

He nods and then we walk back in the direction of Baker st.

Its in silence again as my wet feet barely makes a noise against the road.

The sun is bleeding its way through the clouds. I turn a gaze to look and smile despite myself.

I divert my gaze and realise the door to Baker St is open.

I've been here a few times.

I walk in and gently pad up the stairs were Sherlock is sat on the sofa, legs out knees slackened.

"S-Sherlock?" I ask.

I'm stood awkwardly at the door not knowing what to do.

"Should I g-go?" I ask brushing my feet over each other.

"No." He says as if it's a question.

_So now we wait._

* * *

><p>WAIT? WAIT FOR WHAT?<p>

... for John, but hey, I got you nervous then didnt I? XD

Reviews please? :)


	9. Feelings

right readers, this is more a realization chapter from our dear sherlock *goes into a flurry of fangirlness*

So lets get this show on the road. i know I said tuesday, but I have a free day and I finished the other chapter so I thought why wait!

shoutouts:

Jumperguy- Yes you did get a shoutout! well heres another, thankyou for you review its lovely :)

Fallonholmes- Well its not that long a wait now :)

Nocturnias: Thankyou once again 'dearest' XD

* * *

><p>SHERLOCK POV:<p>

We sit there in silence.

I can't help feeling almost 'freaked out' as John would say.

No not about _this._

About how I'd reacted when I thought _she _was dead.

I don't feel.

No.

I'd assured myself of that since I was a child.

Yet why did I decide to be upset when I saw the body?

I also made a mistake.

Damn sentiment.

I made the mistake of becoming a...

Friend. Of Molly Hooper.

I became attached.

Broke every rule that I'd made for myself.

I don't have _friends._

It's a venomous word, the word friend.

I still don't get it.

Yet I decided to become a friend of Molly Hooper.

Molly Hooper works in a morgue, she has a cat.

Hardly anything special.

Wait what am I say-

Never mind.

I cast a glance over to her and observe.

She's still wet through.

"Molly. How were you kidnapped?" I ask.

She gasps and turns to me, eyes wide and tugging at her coat.

She finally manages a sentence;

"I'm not important-no sorry, _it's _not important."

And then I realise.

How ridiculous.

I actually _need _her.

Not in that way, stupid.

I rely on her, to let me know what I need to do, what I will do.

How ridiculous is that?

I stand up gently.

She remains where she is.

I keep waking forward feet moving one after another and come to a halt about 5 centimetres away from her.

Her eyes widen a lot.

"You... are important." I cough, trying to cover this up.

No reaction, just wide eyes and silence,

I realise the current situation and look at her dripping wet clothes.

"Go have a shower." I say to her.

She raises her eyebrows her eyes never leaving my face.

Then she nods and goes off on her merry way.

I retreat to the main chair.

What is wrong with me?

Then it dawns on me once again.

_Oh no._

I think I feel for Molly Hooper.

This is why I hate feelings.

* * *

><p>OH CRAP? well there we are. reviews are welcome *HINT HINT*<p> 


	10. Trust

Here comes the fluff!

Anyway, the nearest time I can upload this will be friday. Sorry about that.

SHOUTOUTS:

Jumperguy: I think I love you XD, no, but thankyou for the review it makes my head inflate so that it wont fit through my bedroom door :D

Fallonholmes: Thankyou once again, its such a pleasure to get the reviews.

Nocturnias: 'dearest' you know how much I love you :), and if it werent for you I doubt I'd be writing this at all, your my inspiration (cheesy I know) but thankyou, ever so much.

* * *

><p>My musings are taking over my brain.<p>

With another sigh I run a hand through my wet hair.

_Stomp._

John enters the room, takes on look at me and does a double take.

"You've had sex with her haven't you?" I ask and sigh.

He looks bewildered and turns the colour of his jumper.

"N-no. Of course not. Why are you so wet?" He asks.

I snort.

"You're a rubbish liar. It was Moriarty; we had a bit of a... disagreement."

He forgets the first sentence and looks straight at me in disbelief.

"You went, without telling me?" He asks.

I roll my eyes dramatically.

"You were too busy having a 'rumpy pumpy'"

He _laughs._

"What?" I ask irritably.

"You just said rumpy pumpy?"

_Damn Molly and her catchphrases._

I sigh and then look at the clock.

It takes her approximately 15 minutes and 22 seconds to have a shower.

Don't ask how I know that.

Not long now.

We sit in silence for a minute when Molly comes in towel around her and wet hair.

Her cheeks are slightly flushed.

This is torture.

I nod, barely looking at her and push myself past her.

When I do cast a glance at her she looks worried.

A shower, a shower is what I need, it'll clear my head.

I walk to the door and open it causing a dramatic clash.

**Molly:**

I wonder what on earth I've done wrong.

I stand there in his cream towel in front of John Watson and suddenly realise these last events.

God, here comes the cheese, but I have to say it;

He's my own personal superhero.

I apologize to John and leave the room, instead heading over to the kitchen.

Jeez...us its cold.

I stand there looking outside the window and notice the dirt on the windows.

A woman's influence would stop-

Wait what am I saying?

I carry on staring and look at the clock.

_10 minutes._

I hear a sharp thud which basically means he's out of the shower.

I sigh again and look down at the tiled floor.

I sit down and wait.

Wait for what exactly?

I don't _actually _know.

Ah for him.

I sit in silence until the door bangs open and Sherlock is stood there.

"Sherl-"

"T-shirt in my cupboard John will get your clothes."

He's fully clothed, black shirt, black _everything._

"Will I get her clothes?" John asks.

"Yes, did you not hear that?" He replies sharply.

He's in a mood.

I sit there in silence as John leaves the flat.

We _both _sit there in silence.

"Sherlock. What's wrong?" I ask turning to face him.

No reply.

"Sherl-"

"Molly, I've saved you already you don't need anything else."

And there it is.

How many times has he crushed my heart, ripped to shreds?

How many?

This is just an addition.

I'm not a bitter woman.

But jeez I am angry now.

I had this at the Christmas party.

I rise from my seat.

"S-Sherlock. I d-don't really need to tell you how many t-times you've crushed me, or in a different matter, my d-dignity. So I don't want to beg you. But please for _once _in your life can you stop being a machine?"

He stares at me for a minute.

"Molly I'm not a superhero."

He looks into my eyes.

I return the gaze.

"You are to me." I say clearly.

Realization slowly counters across his features, travelling across every cheekbone, every hair, and every muscle.

"Do you trust me Molly?" he asks.

I don't hesitate.

"Yes."

He nods.

"Hand." He says flatly.

I stretch out my hand which he takes.

He's _warm._

"I apologize."

I nod and take in the conversation we had just had.

_This is just beginning._

* * *

><p>WOOHOO! Well then, reviews are welcome *subtle hint huh?* but I do appreaciate your views, so thanks :)<p> 


	11. Dammit John

Well dear readers heres another chaptay! Thankyou for all your lovely reviews, and thankyou for everyone who's faved and put this on alerts.

The next chapter will be up on Monday or maybe sunday.

For: Jumperguy, fallonholmes, Murmeltierchen and my 'dearest' as usual you never cease to amaze me :P

DISCLAIMER: For the lack of disclaimers, I dont own Sherlock, if I did Molly would have had much more screen time in season 1 :)

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Sherlock:<strong>

I stay in this position for a while.

I realise I've still got hold of her hand.

I don't let go.

"Molly." I clear my throat.

She turns.

"Yes?" She asks, eyes wide, same Molly as usual.

I'm horrified that the words nice looking has come into my head.

I shake my head.

"I seem to have developed a... Interest. In something."

She nods.

"Someone?" She squeaks.

"... Possibly."

She turns red.

"Girlfriend? I m-mean, have you got a-"

"You know what never mind." She adds sheepishly.

"No." I reply.

Her palms are getting sweaty.

_Pupils are dilated._

_Breathing becoming shallower._

_Extended pulse._

_Increased temperature._

This is only making this more difficult than it has to be.

"Somebody." I add with a little shrug.

We stay in silence.

"You should deduce Molly. Makes life so much simpler." I sigh knowing her adorabl-

God help me.

I sigh knowing that her little brain wouldn't be able to deduce anything.

"I can't deduce minds, I can get feelings." She sighs more.

I look to the side.

How do I put this?

"Deduce my feelings Molly." I say.

She won't be able to.

She drops my hand and stands in front of me.

**Molly:**

_God what do I say? What do I do!_

_Oh sweet Jesus, I need Toby._

I stand there like a goldfish, mouth opening and closing every second.

"Well?" He asks.

I thought something had happened then.

Thought he would treat me like a human instead of a mouse.

Speaking of which I want to shy away now.

"Well. You err. Your eye things, sorry no your pupils are smaller, you seem a bit hot."

I nod.

_Real casual Molly re-_

Aren't those the noticeable outcomes for-?

_Oh._

I freeze.

Literally I feel like I can't move, gelled to the ground by some invisible force.

"Sherlock?" I squeak.

_It's a big misunderstanding. It's a bit hot in here and the light is shining in his eyes, you're getting over excited._

How I hate my inner thoughts.

I stand there, not really sure of what to do.

"I believe that John is going to leave soon." He nods to the outside of the door.

"He's going to move in with Sarah judging from his shoes." He nods.

"His shoes?" I ask.

He doesn't reply but I see his eyes droop.

I know that John means a lot to him.

"In that scenario I will need a new flat mate as such."

I nod.

_Wait, does he mean what I think he means?_

"Right I get you." I nod.

He raises his eyebrows.

"So?" he asks.

_Yes!_

"No. I'm sorry." I babble.

A look of confusion falls upon his face.

"Why?" He asks.

"It'd be really awkward wouldn't it? I mean I used to, no I have a crush on you and..."

I cup my mouth in horror of what I have just said.

John walks through the door with my clothes.

I take it and immediately dash out of the room, not wanting to be near him any longer.

"Thanks I'll be going now!" I yell through the door which is ajar.

I dash through the door and into the bathroom, pulling various objects of clothing over my wet hair.

I don't care; I just _need to get out of here!_

I pull on my shorts and run out of the bathroom tripping over a mug on the floor.

Before any of them show concern I get up and jump down the stairs.

Well I say jump, more like fall.

My phone bleeps in my short pocket.

_Where are you going?_

_SH_

I look at my phone in disbelief.

_Away? Why where are you?_

_X_

I freeze and my phone bleeps again.

_Window._

_SH_

I look up in surprise.

_Still no?_

_SH_

I don't really know what to do.

_Maybe I've changed my mind._

_X_

_Come if convenient._

_SH_

I walk up the stairs of baker st.

_If inconvenient come anyway._

_SH_

I enter the room, feeling like I'm sent to disgrace.

I don't look up.

"Reconsidered?" He asks.

He sounds _weird._

"I think so."

* * *

><p>Right then thats it! Reviews please *hugs*<p> 


	12. Thankyou, Molly Hooper

well my lovely readers! hate to be the bearer of bad news but I doubt I'll update at all this week :( SO next saturday will be the day!

DISCLAIMER: I dont own sherlock otherwise Molly Hooper would HAVE TONS MORE SCREEN TIME MOFFTISS (in series one at least)

Oh, what a wonderful chapter this was to write.

For: My 'dearest'.

* * *

><p>I walk back into the room, head held high.<p>

Dignity in the pits.

I don't look up, and believe me I don't want to.

"Reconsidered I presume." His voice is like silk.

"Something like that." I mumble to the floor, which is the main object of my attention.

"John is moving out the Thursday forthcoming, be ready for then."

I nod.

"Tomorrow?" I squeak, looking down in horror at my phone.

"You're only renting aren't you Molly?" He asks.

I nod.

"Well chop chop then." He walks swiftly back to the kitchen.

"What about Toby!" I yell into the kitchen.

I get no reply.

_No way am I leaving him._

I dash out of the door creating a to do list in my head.

_Main objective;_

_Move out in 24 hours._

I squeak and fall down the stairs on my way out.

My shorts rub together as I sprint down the busy pavement, bumping into all sorts of strangers.

**Sherlock:**

"Clear out your room John!" I yell into the door which is ajar.

I hear various thuds; it seems he's doing this already.

I swiftly kick a mouldy toe underneath the sofa.

John can clean it.

With Molly around I presume it will be a change of scenery.

I stare blankly at the walls.

But it will be _irritating _too.

I sigh and start fidgeting.

I flip out my phone.

_John_

_Mrs. Hudson_

_Lestrade _

_The woman_

_Molly._

I select John and type out a quick message.

_Bored._

_SH_

I set it down when it buzzes alarmingly.

_I'm in the other room! And I'm busy._

_JW_

I sigh and prop my feet up on the sofa.

I grab John's gun, (I lost mine) and aim for the wall.

I fire each one perfectly.

_SH_

With another sigh I look at the time.

"Hurry up John!" I yell through the door.

"I'm nearly done! Just need to change the bed." He yells back.

I sigh again.

"Who cares about the bed?" I yell back.

He doesn't reply.

Its 10 o'clock in the evening.

"Shouldn't you be done?" I ask him.

He emerges from the room, ace lit up, and wiping dust away from his legs.

"Right I'm done!" He smiles triumphantly.

I don't _actually _want him to go.

I don't have feelings.

John Watson, however, is my friend.

Oh how much I hate that word.

I nod to him.

"Goodbye then John."

I'm not making this difficult.

Before I know what he's doing he's enveloped me in a hug.

"John-what-are-you-doing? Get off me!" I yell and wave my arms uselessly.

He lets go and I nod.

"Yes, right."

As soon as he leaves I collapse onto the chair.

"Terrible." I mutter.

I'm not going to be able to get much else done, so I turn off my phone.

I open the door, slip off my shoes and fall onto my bed.

_Molly is sat in my living room._

_Molly Hooper._

_She's wearing underwear._

_Only her underwear._

_I walk over to her and-_

My head bolts up from the crummy pillow as I realise in horror about my dream.

I don't dream about people.

I shake my head irrationally and roll out of the cave I call a bed.

My phone tells me its 8 in the morning.

With a feeble attempt at a yawn I stretch and then realise I have to wait.

**Molly:**

My alarm rings at my side as I pathetically attempt to turn it off.

Today is the day I move in with Sherlock Holmes.

All my stuff is downstairs, things I want sealed and ready to go.

I roll out of my bed and land with a thud on the floor.

_Come on Molly. Breathe._

I run into the bathroom and have a shower.

It's a _long _shower.

As soon as I step out of it I shake my hair like one of those dramatic films and pull on my leggings and a flowery top.

_Curly or straight?_

I shrug and tie it in a fish braid.

_Lovely Molly._

I put my lip gloss on and put a bit of white eye shadow on.

I give my biggest smile at the mirror.

Oh yes.

I've already dialled the moving van, got Toby in his cage and I'm sorted.

_Breaaathe._

I walk downstairs, where my things are being moved out and grab Toby.

"Come on boy, we're moving to Sherlock's house. Be nice to him yeah?" I ask the cat.

He doesn't reply.

Wait of course he won't.

He's a cat.

_You mad old cat woman._

I make sure he's okay before walking out of the door.

I've told my landlady.

I'm fine.

I say my goodbye's double check my belongings and walk to the flat.

It's not that far.

I can feel my feet getting weaker by the second.

"We can do this Toby." I mutter.

My legs start shaking.

Jesus, I bet my brain is shaking.

I finally arrive, tremble up the steps and open the door.

"Sherlock?" I ask into the darkened room.

No reply.

"Sherlock!" I yell once again.

The lights snap on and I guard my eyes for a second, before seeing the silhouette of Sherlock.

"Ah Molly." He nods and then sits down.

"Yes?" I ask rooted to the spot.

"Sit down. You live here now."

This is going to be terrible.

I sit on the end of the seat for a few minutes and then after hurting my back, relax into it.

Most people in my life think I have everything.

I'd swap their life for mine in a heartbeat.

"Why are you being so sentimental Sherlock?" I ask to him.

His usual shield stays in its place; his icy stare stays the same.

If I blinked I would have missed it, the flash of hurt.

"I'm not being _sentimental._" He replies sharply, a lot different to his earlier mood.

The word is said like a curse, with concealed venom he spits it out.

"You wouldn't ask me to move into your house Sherlock if you didn't do sentiment." I keep my head held in its position.

"Molly. I don't do _feelings, _or _sentiment, _or _friends_. If I did have feelings I'd go to the extent and say that I hate sentiment." He says bitterly.

I look at him eyes focused on his face.

"That's not true Sherlock." I say softly, my hands have relaxed their grip on the sofa.

He looks up at me as if seeing me for the first time, the exact same look when I said I didn't count.

"You said you don't deduce and yet you see what I am every time." He says quite gently in contrast to before.

"I know." I reply.

"How do you do it?" He asks.

"I've known you for four years Sherlock, you've always looked sad. You don't bother with the mask with me because you think I won't be able to see it."

He repeats the _look _again.

"But you _do _see it." He replies.

"Of course I do. You might not know this Sherlock, but if something w-were to happen to you, I don't think I could live with myself."

And there it is.

Love.

A strange word, but I wouldn't be able to do anything without him.

Sometimes I find myself actually wanting to hate feelings like Sherlock.

"The feeling is mutual." He replies.

_I beg your pardon?_

Sh**.

I sit there, legs about to buckle underneath me, heart about to spring out like a jack-in-a-box.

"Moriarty was right. About you. About me." He looks at the window pane, his eyes showing nothing.

"He was?" I ask trembling and almost dying of oxygen starvation.

He gets up from his chair, kisses me on the forehead and leaves the room.

"Thank you Molly Hooper."

* * *

><p>Righto! did you like? Review pleassse. and dont forget. OH RLY?<p> 


	13. No boyfriends thankyou

I'm sorry readers for having to bear with me! I'm a day late, but here you go ladies and gents, fluffy chapters all round.

DISCLAIMER: I dont own sherlock deeerrr.

For: My awesome 'jumperguy'.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>I sit there frozen in shock.<p>

_Thank you Molly Hooper._

_Thank you Molly Hooper._

I believe I am pacing up the and down making the skull topple of the mantelpiece.

I look in the mirror and hastily put it back up.

_When did I get so tubby?_

I cascade the unwanted thoughts out of my head and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to think of his face at that moment.

It looked gorgeous as always.

But it was _different._

He looked _scared._

He looked _human._

With a sigh I fall back onto the sofa, hugging a cushion to my chest.

It smells like him.

I push it away from me having a thought dawning.

What about if this is another of his ploys?

I know what he's like yet I can't say no.

Maybe it is a ploy.

The pit of my stomach seems to deepen as I look straight forward.

The knock at the door startles me as I retreat down the stairs to see the delivery men stood in front of me.

"Oh yes, the front room please." My words struggle out of my mouth.

They raise their eyebrows suggestively and I want to spit in their faces.

_Serves you right for picking the cheapest option._

I leave the room and March back up the stairs and open the door to the flat.

Sherlock looks up.

"Miss Hooper, do sit." He nods to me and then returns to his paper.

"Miss Hooper?" I ask with concealed venom.

_Since when was I miss Hooper?_

I comply as always and allow the builders to swan their way through the flat.

They look at Sherlock disapprovingly and wink at me.

I take in their hungry glances and shift further into my seat.

Sherlock sees this.

He doesn't react.

I can't stop a little bit of anger bubbling over, but I am Molly Hooper, calm.

I get called into John- _my _room by the movers and walk into the room.

"Yes?" I ask observing them both.

The first was bald, typical idiot, looked like he was an alcoholic. He smelt like it anyway.

The other one seems a bit more sensitive, he had brown hair and blue eyes, beer belly, and I'd say he's married.

I realise in horror that I'm making an attempt to deduce.

My mouth clamps shut as I blink a few times.

I realise I'm in a room.

By myself.

With the bald one.

In a locked room.

I don't remember locking it.

I look down in horror at the door handle and then back at the man in front of me.

I'm currently backed into a corner.

No escape.

I panic and look up at the door.

I've seen it all before, the mad glint in the eye.

"Jim's missing you." He speaks the name with a flourish as I feel my legs buckle underneath me.

"How do you know M-Moriaty?" I ask quietly my eyes glossing over.

"He's an acquaintance." He flashes me a grin.

I pull out the draw behind me quietly and extend my hand in it.

Paper, paper, paper, screwdriver.

My hand tightens around it and I push it into my pocket.

He turns back round to face me and closes the small distance between us.

I use this chance.

As quick as my hands would let me I bring down the screwdriver onto his arm.

It penetrates the skin as he immediately staggers away from me.

"You bitch!" He yells and it seems to have gotten Sherlock's attention as the door bursts open.

I don't want to look up at him or anyone else and instead bury my fists into my eyes, cowering away from the puddle of scarlet delicately tracing its way across the floor.

I look up and he's laid on the floor, screwdriver sticking out of his chest.

"I put it in his arm!" I squeak worriedly.

Sherlock doesn't reply.

I've seen blood, the lot before obviously.

But not what I myself have done.

I look at Sherlock who is scanning the room with his eyes.

"Was that you?" I ask in panic.

"No." He replies.

"Then who did?" I ask shakily.

He stands up from the man, who's now dead and walks over to the window.

"Who else is in the house?" He asks, his eyes squeezing shut and his palms presses together.

His eyes snap open and widen.

"Too easy, the other delivery man did it." He sighs and exits the room.

I attempt to get up and then he returns to the room.

"You are fine I presume?" He asks, eyes undressing me as always.

"I-I'm fine." I squeak.

"Anything else I should know about?" He asks me.

I think about what the man said.

About Moriarty.

"No."

He raises an eyebrow but drops it and returns to his seat.

"Should I call the police?" I ask looking at the door of my room.

"You can take my room tonight." He says, bluntly ignoring my question.

"Right." I nod.

His hand tightens around a gun at his side as he fires 3 bullets out of the window and returns to his seat.

He looks at the clock expectantly and then smirks when the sound of sirens are heard outside.

"At least that way you won't waste credit." I smile a little, see his face and then clamp my mouth shut.

He just said shut up with his cheekbones.

I don't think that's even possible.

"They've moved all the things in anyway." I continued valiantly.

He doesn't reply.

"Sherlock." I spit.

He opens his eyes and looks at me.

"Yes?"

"Stop it." I reply harshly.

He blinks a few times, a flicker of fire passing through his eyes before returning to the ice they were before.

"Stop what." He replies.

"You know what. I live with you, and I'm staying here." I find new found bitterness and I don't like it one bit.

"I don't believe I have a problem with that." He replies slowly.

"Then why are you being like this?" I ask softly, a lot different than before.

"I seem to have developed an... interest in you." He clears his throat and pulls the paper up over his face.

"And?" I ask.

This is very treacherous grounds.

"That's what you wanted wasn't it?" He replies.

"You mean like... girlfriend?" I ask.

He tuts and brings down his paper.

"I do not want to be called 'boyfriend'." He says the word like its poison.

"I won't." I reply shakily.

"I presume this is settled?" He asks.

A little smile plays up my face.

Then the police had to come in and ruin it all.

* * *

><p>Soooo what do you think happens next? review please! :3<p> 


	14. Arrests

Hello there lovely readers!

This is definitely for; my 'dearest'.

However, thank you to all of you that have read and reviewed so far! I do appreciate it

So in today we have a bit of Lestrade!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything aside from the coke I'm drinking. And this laptop of course. I obviously dont own 'the universal' who do you think I am? Damon Albarn? ;)

Enjoy!

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><p>The door slams open into the flat as I scrunch away as far as possible from them, in their bright blue uniforms.<p>

Lestrade's face is priceless.

"What've you done this time?" He asks, doughnut in hand, coffee in the other.

"Back room." Sherlock says to him and flips up his paper.

He sighs and brings his team in my room, all weaving around the untouched cardboard boxes.

I remain sat in the chair, the cushions swallowing me up.

It drops silent.

Then Lestrade enters again.

"What the HELL have you done?" He spreads his words out emphasizing his point.

I look to Sherlock for a reaction and suddenly notice how stressed he looks.

His usual black fluffy hair is plastered to his head; the ice eyes are now melted and droopy.

Never the less he regains his composure and stares right at them.

"I think you already know by now Lestrade that, it isn't me."

Lestrade looks at me, sees the blood on my shirt.

He can't seriously think this.

"Molly?" He asks, a worried expression plastered on his face.

I don't reply.

He cracks out his handcuffs.

_What an earth is he doing?_

"Molly Hooper I am arresting you on suspicion of murder."

_God no._

This is some big practical joke; Lestrade will crack and just tell me it's a joke, a prank from work.

Nevertheless he pulls me out of the door.

One of the policemen says a few words about court.

All I can think is that Sherlock will help me.

I look back at him fearfully.

He hasn't moved.

He lifts his paper.

The mask as always stays there and I want to rip it off.

It drops and he stands.

"It wasn't Molly detective inspector."

I want to collapse in relief.

"Who was it then? She had the victim's blood on her sleeve. Just because you're good doesn't mean one word from you and we're dropping this, you're not god." He replies.

"Yes. But Molly acted in self defence and tried to attack him with a screwdriver." He smirks a little.

_It's adorable._

Then I realise what situation we're in.

"She punctured the arm; however his worker removed the screwdriver and penetrated his heart." He replies smoothly, every word a layer of velvet.

"His worker?" He asks, but releases his grip on me all the same.

We all fall silent and I really ruin the moment as a guitar melody from my phone flows through the room.

_This is the next century  
>Where the universal's free<br>You can find it anywhere  
>Yes, the future has been sold<br>Every night we're gone  
>And to karaoke songs<br>How we like to sing a long  
>Although the words are wrong<em>

My phone buzzes with each note Damon sings, which is really humiliating.

I can't reach down to my pocket, so the song continues.

_It really, really, really could happen  
>yes, it really, really, really could happen<br>when the days they seem to fall through you, well just let them go._

I flush red in embarrassment as Sherlock stares at me.

Why did I have to buy the full version as my ringtone?

_No one here is alone, satellites in every home  
>Yes the universal's here, here for everyone<br>Every paper that you read  
>Says tomorrow is your lucky day<br>Well, here's your lucky day._

It's not my bloody lucky day is it?

I feel the handcuffs click of my hand as Lestrade sends me away.

"Explain Sherlock."

I collapse into the chair and root around in my pocket.

_It really, really, really could happen  
>yes, it really, really, really could happen<br>when the days they seem to fall through-_

I turn it off with a satisfying click and cuddle into the pillow.

God this is crap.

What are the people at work going to say?

What is my _mum _going to say?

Sherlock returns to the room with an apologetic looking Lestrade.

"We still will have to take you in for questioning." He nods slowly.

His forensics team drags out the body in the bag and pull it out of the door, my eyes trailing over it. I'm used to bodies. But I find myself shivering.

As soon as they're gone his face softens, if possible and he crosses the room.

"Tell me where you're injured." He is obviously attempting to soften his voice, this doesn't work, but I still take it.

I undo two or three button on my shirt and pull it off my shoulders, making sure it rests just above my breasts, he touches my neck, where there's a scratch starting from the tip to just where my shirt starts.

I inhale quickly at the pain.

He doesn't bother with an apology, instead his fingers trace lightly over my back, I shudder at the coldness of his fingers and he mumbles something along the lines of.

"Sorry."

"Yes. Yes. That will be adequate." He replies and stands.

"Sherlock I want to ask you something." This is sudden, and I had no intention of doing this, _whatsoever._

"Yes?" He asks, having returned to his seat his eyes don't rise from his paper.

"Are you like my boyfr-"

"No. I'm not your boyfriend nor are you my _girlfriend._ It sounds disgusting. You now know that I have an interest in you, so we are indeed... _Dating _if that's what you call it_._" He spits out those words like they are poison, but nevertheless he nods.

I move over and sit down next to him.

He slams down his paper, takes one look at me and says;

"Bored."

I sigh and push my head into the cushion.

_**Sherlock.**_

There has never been a time, aside from school, when I had shown any interest in a woman. Do not criticise me, I was young and foolish, but I have matured.

I never thought I would want any sex let alone need them.

This is why I attempted to be asexual.

Never before has a woman interested me before either.

Irene Adler was certainly a match, but she was trying too hard to win the game, and like everyone who tries to play against me, she let her heart rule her head. Or in other words; she lost.

Molly Hooper is quite fascinating.

I never thought I myself would admit that.

Her behaviour for one intrigues me.

The ability to be able to analyse human emotions without deducing is remarkable.

Yet she still succeeds.

I absent mindedly have a hand resting on her head which I attempt to remove.

Then I remember that she has emotions and that he will quickly get frustrated if I'm not a lovely and caring... _boyfriend._

The word itself is plain tacky, making me sound like a commoner, a fake.

"Molly. Would you like me to... kiss you?" I ask uncertainly.

She sighs.

"Sherlock you don't need to ask for my confirmation, this isn't the weakest link." She replies smoothly.

I roll my eyes at her obsession with the media and television culture.

I pick her head up in my hands, turn her to face me and study her face for a minute.

_How should I do this?_

I groan internally at the cheese, but press a kiss to her lips softly.

She replies hungrily, grabbing the lapels of my jacket and pulling me down.

Her tongue slips into my mouth as I open my eyes and stare right at her.

She has her eyes shut.

I quickly squeeze them shut until she releases me and collapses onto the cushion.

"Right, yes." she replies.

She gives me a soppy grin, and I smile.

She has a worried expression on her face.

"Molly?" I enquire, eyes trailing over her for a deduction.

"You're doing your fake smile again." She replies softly.

I keep the smile on my face and walk up to the mirror.

She's right.

My smile has reached the sides of my eyes and I look remarkably similar to a contestant for a reality show.

It slides off in one fluid motion.

I return to my chair.

_**Molly:**_

He returns to his chair.

"Erm, I need to err. Sleep?" I ask looking at him for confirmation.

He nods.

I trail into Sherlock's bedroom like a zombie, my hair falling over my face and my hands trying to restrain it. Once I'm in I peel of my top and skirt and pull my nightie over my head.

It clings to my body and I think it was an attempt of my mother to try and get me a long-term boyfriend. Yes, it is one of her ploys; it's a black one, with a lace trim around the sides.

I mean really, who would use that as night wear?

I slide into his bed, it's large and the covers cup my body, so to be honest it's lovely, I breathe in his scent and smile before closing my eyes and drifting to the land of sleep.

_I've finished my shift; I just want to go home, my hand closed around the handle._

"_You're wrong you know, you do count."_

_I almost had a heart attack at the sound of his deep baritone._

"_You've always counted and I've always trusted you."_

_My eyes widened, why here? Why now?_

"_But you were right. I'm not okay." _

_But, I thought he just said I was wrong?_

"_What's wrong?" I asked._

_The only logical thing I could think of._

"_I think I'm going to die." He replied fear strained over every feature._

"_What do you need?" I asked weakly._

"_Molly if I wasn't everything I thought I am, everything you think I am would you still want to help me?" he asked me this as if I was an angel._

"_What do you need?" I asked having already ignored his question._

"_You." _

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><p>Well, nothing like a bit of Reinbach to finish is there! Please review ;)<p> 


	15. An eyeful of the London Eye

Im sorry for the lack of updating but this is the chapter before the important chapter...

righto!

DISCLAIMER: I dont own Sherlock, if I did I would waste no time ruffling benedicts hair.

Enjoy!

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><p>My eyes open blearily as I look around.<p>

My heart was pattering out of my chest as I look down at my torso.

Sherlock's arms are wrapped around it.

I am dreaming definitely.

With a yawn, I remove his arms gently and roll out of bed.

I say roll; more like fall.

Is domestic going to be so boring?

I walk out of the bedroom and notice Sherlock's blackberry lying around.

It's nearly in pieces and the buttons have fallen off, particularly the letters, S and H.

It's flashing alarmingly.

I pick it up and read a message.

'Case, important.'

It's from Lestrade.

I walk into the bedroom again and shake Sherlock.

He looks adorable.

Curls falling in his face, rhythmic breathing, his face shallow and pale.

"Sherlock, case." I whisper.

The effect is immediate, his eyes snap open and he bolts up.

"What about?" He mumbles as he stumbles into the shower.

"Murder!" I yell as the shower starts up.

A yelp comes from inside the bathroom;

Serves him right for getting in when it's still cold.

I guess he will want me in the morgue, so I pull the brush through my hair and head into the main bathroom, trying to ignore the area of leg floating in the toilet.

I step into the shower and yelp.

I am such a hypocrite.

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><p>I step out of the shower and tie a towel around me.<p>

Sherlock is still getting ready.

With him, I would have thought it'd be get up and go.

I run straight into the bedroom to get changed, pulling my red vest over my head then pulling on my leggings and denim shorts.

It will have to do.

I pull the brush through my neglected hair and follow him out of the door, before pulling bog roll out of my shorts.

"Where and what?" I ask trying to understand his eagerness to find a body.

"Murder, Kensington gardens. De ja vu." He replies and jumps into a cab.

I follow and watch his eyes scan across all the people on the street, his brain taking in all sorts of information from just a fleeting glance.

The road jogs and I don't really know what I'm doing here.

"So seeing as we're boyfri-"

Sherlock cuts me off.

"I'd never be your boyfriend Molly."

I guess I was a lit fuse, because that affected me.

"Stop! Please." I yell to the driver.

He does so, an annoyed look on his face.

I push open the door and run out.

Its took me this long to realise.

Sherlock Holmes does not have girlfriends or love.

I keep on running, no motivation.

Hell, I don't even know where I am.

I come to a stop. Tired, out of breath, neglected.

My phone buzzes and I can feel petty tears rising to my eyes.

_Hey there Moo._

_JM_

I nearly drop my phone.

Moriarty?

My phone buzzes again.

_Stay where you are._

_-SH_

I do not want to be near him right now.

I look back and carry on running.

I run out of an alley and realise I'm on the embankment, the eye rotating above me, carrying people on their way.

_What are you doing?_

_MH_

I send the text to Moriarty.

I am not being social, I don't get why he would text me if he had no sinister plans, none whatsoever.

_Something very… big. Want an eyeful?_

_JM_

I look at the phone in surprise.

_A bomb?_

_MH_

I don't get this exchange.

I have no idea why I'm even replying.

Maybe I can help without Sherlock.

_A bomb._

_JM_

I look at the phone in shock.

I take a seat on the bench.

This isn't my business, Moriarty is a mastermind criminal.

I look up at the London eye despairingly.

I freeze.

An eyeful.

The London eye.

An eyeful.

I look up at the pods worriedly.

My phone buzzes again.

_Fancy joining me?_

_JM_

No I do not.

_Sherlock where are you? Embankment now._

_MH_

My hands are shaking in fear.

_Molly Moo?_

_JM_

I try to calm my shaking hands.

Before I know it, a black blur collides with me.

"Sherlock!" I yell to him.

Without consultation I wrap my arms around him.

"Eyeful." I mutter into his coat.

"Eyeful?" He asks, holding my at arm length.

"London eye. Bomb." I reply shakily.

"Molly? How do you know that? Molly!"

I feel slightly queasy.

"Moriarty." I reply.

And with that I faint, collapsing into his coat.

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><p>Weeel, Moriarty and the london eye huh? I do know how he is going to do, but its not too mad :D Reviews please ;)<p> 


	16. IOU

Oh I have been so wicked. Sooooo wicked. You're gonna hate me for this readers.

Im sorry, but I have to dedicate this to my 'dearest', its THE chapter.

DISCLAIMER: I dont won Sherlock at all, nul, nien non, nada. we all know Mofftiss are the brilliant mind behind the series.

I cant tell you whats going to happen in this because it will ruin the outcome.

So enjoy, and try not to hate me.

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><p>I awake to see Sherlock sat with me on a bench, his coat is spread over me and the air ripples across the distance between us, making me shiver.<p>

"Sherlock?" I ask wearily.

His head snaps over in my direction like a soldier to attention.

"Are you sure it's the London Eye?" He asks, no emotion, as usual.

I root around in my pocket and pull out my phone.

"There…. It is in there. Somewhere." I manage to choke out before snuggling into the bench.

He grumbles in frustration.

"Password?" He asks.

I go beetroot.

This is embarrassing.

"Sherlock." I mumble in reply.

I look at his face for reaction and I am lucky to catch the smile that flashes upon it before returning to its set in stone gaze.

"I presume it's in your inbox?" he asks icily.

"Yeah." I reply, before snuggling into his coat.

"Ah crap." I look down at his coat, which right in the middle, is covered in bird crap.

He looks at it for a second, sighs and then returns to the phone.

His face pales, and his eyebrow slowly descends.

"You're right. It's the London eye." He replies steadily.

I nod and look up at it.

"Do you think he's on it now?" I ask craning my head and squinting.

We're miles away, I can't see a thing, let alone people.

I blink a few times.

"So?" I ask, looking up at his eyes.

It's the wrong time, but I suddenly realise how beautiful they are, a vortex of grey and blue, I cant tell where the blue ends and the grey starts.

I shake my head furiously.

"We're going to the eye, see if we can get anything."

I nod and weakly stand.

"Yep. Sure."

He starts walking briskly, notices my state and slows down.

"Go home."

His voice is surprisingly gentle.

I shake my head, making me a bit dizzy.

"No." I reply.

He looks at me for a minute before flagging another taxi.

I climb in after him and hold my face in my hands.

I think I'm going to be sick.

I turn my head to face the window, and for a moment I marvel in the way that human society is.

Everyone oblivious to another, judging books from their covers and so on.

I lean back against the chair and close my eyes drifting into an untimely sleep.

I awake.

The taxi has drawn to a halt and I follow Sherlock drearily out of the door.

We're a bit away from the London eye.

In an effort not to lag behind I quicken up my pace, I can't let him down now.

The effort makes me feel nauseous.

The queue is becoming close and closer.

We're there.

My phone buzzes and Sherlock hands me it, he must have kept it in his possession.

I try to give him a quizzical look that fails and instead turn to my phone.

_Peek-a-boo._

_-JM._

I pass it to Sherlock, hands shaking, head spinning.

His head snaps up from the text, his eyes frantically scanning through the queue until they rest on a person.

I crane my head slowly already knowing I will meet the gaze of James Moriarty.

He strides up, not having changed a bit, his brown hair slicked back, wearing a suit that shimmers in the light. Brown eyes tinged with craze.

"Evening!" he smirks at us, arms wide.

With that he turns back round indicating we follow him, he walks past the staff who look fearful.

I get a nudge in my back.

"He threatened them with a gun." Sherlock whispers into my ear.

His neck touches mine with this and it's almost electrifying.

I nod feeling slightly better, the thrill of the chase, the feeling of fear all chorusing through my veins.

I shuffle up the ramp where the pods are shifting by one after the other.

Moriarty grins and jumps onto one, Sherlock follows and I jump in like an idiot.

I've always had an irrational fear I'd fall through as a teen, and if I'm being honest, it never left.

The doors slide closed and the feeling of fear once again rises.

I'm in a cramped pod, above the Thames with a psychopath, what a genius idea.

"I'm surprised you hadn't figured this out earlier. I gave you loads of clues. You're getting slow!"

He spreads out his words and spins energetically back to face us.

"Sorry to say, but times run out!" He continues a gleeful smile spread across his face.

I look at Sherlock for a conclusion to whats going on.

"There's a bomb on this pod." He replies steadily, his eyes closed.

I pale and feel like fainting again, only to collapse onto the chairs situated in the middle.

"A bomb?" I repeat weakly.

"Yep! A bomb!" He squeaks this almost, and I find myself wondering if a man's voice can get this high.

Surely Sherlock has a plan, some mad cap idea.

Maybe he has parachutes in his coat?

My fear has obviously brought out the idiocy in me.

I blink a few times and see Moriarty fish out a remote out of his pocket.

"Controls the bomb. I love technology! Don't you?" His tone suddenly changes to a lower tone, wicked.

"Crunch time." He whispers softly, before pressing the button situated in the centre.

"Toodles!" He yells as the final tick of the bomb timer echoes throughout the pod.

"_I.O.U"_

_-James Moriarty, the reinbach fall._

**T****he end.**

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><p><strong><strong>I know you hate me now, but I wanted this to happen.

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Thanks all for your lovely reviews, alerts, favs everything. I love you all.

**Lorna**

**x**


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